


Dinner And Whiskey

by Nightwinging_it



Series: Whiskey And Fluff [3]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 10:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18072068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightwinging_it/pseuds/Nightwinging_it
Summary: Scott Ryder is worried about the stress his boyfriend Reyes is under lately. He wants to find a way to help Reyes relax for a night, and he thinks he has just the thing.(Continuation of Whiskey And Rest)





	Dinner And Whiskey

Scott Ryder hated being confined to the Tempest.

He loved the ship, sure, but spending all his time here was enough to make him want to beg Peebee to shoot them out of an escape pod again. Well, no, actually, maybe not that far. But he was going stir-crazy.

Reyes had been visiting him often, but the past few days he’d only been able to send Scott a message on his terminal or talk with him for a few minutes on the omni-tool. Work had been incredibly busy for him as Roekaar caused trouble around the Badlands, dragging exiles into the conflict. This created a lot of work for Reyes.

Scott stretched and carefully got off his bed, grabbing his crutches and limping his way to his message terminal. He hated using the crutches, but he’d promised Reyes and his crew he’d use them after having fallen and injured himself worse without them.

Damn broken ankle. He couldn’t believe that’s all it took to sideline the Pathfinder. Even dying on an alarmingly regular basis hadn’t been enough to leave him bedridden, but one bad fall in a conflict got him locked up on the Tempest for rest.

He checked his messages, but had no new ones from Reyes. He read over the last one, his eyes lingering on the apology Reyes had ended the message with.

Scott got up and dressed himself in sweatpants and a hoodie, taking up his crutches and leaving his room. He felt bad about how stressed out Reyes was, and wanted to help him relax, even for just a night.

He found Cora doing some work in the crew quarters. She looked up, raising an eyebrow.

“Wow, you’re using your crutches,” she said.

“If I end up back with Lexi for another ankle injury, I think she’ll snap my neck,” Scott said. “I need your help.”

“Sure, what do you need?” she asked, setting the datapad she’d been reading down.

“Come to the Port with me,” Scott said.

“Ryder, we talked about this,” Cora said, shaking her head. “The last thing we need is for the exiles to realize you’re in no shape to fight.”

Scott tugged on his hoodie. “What, you think this is for fashion? The hood will hide my face. Probably. If not, I trust you to kick some ass on my behalf. I can shoot a gun with a broken ankle.”

“But you can’t get to cover quick if someone shoots back,” she said. “What do you even need from the Port? I can just go handle it for you.”

Scott shook his head. “Personal business, Cora. I’m the Pathfinder; don’t I get some authority? Boss you around and all that?”

The truth was that he wanted Cora there partly in case anything happened, and partly because he needed help getting Reyes a surprise. Reyes had showed up a few days after Scott broke his ankle with whiskey and a cheesy action vid, and Scott wanted to return the favor somehow. He was hoping Cora might be better at this than he was. His idea of romance was apparently getting them into gun fights with mercenaries and kett.

Cora crossed her arms, looking skeptical. “Why don’t you tell me what this is really about, and then I’ll think about going with you?”

Scott sat down across from her, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well…don’t laugh at me. I don’t know why I even said that. Of course you’re going to laugh at me.”

“Reyes?” she guessed.

“He’s been good to me while you guys have kept me locked up here. I want to return the favor now that he’s having a hard time,” Scott admitted. “When I broke my ankle, he said we’d each buy a bottle of whiskey and get so drunk we’d be able to laugh about the situation. I still owe him that. And…”

He stopped, not wanting to admit how worried he was about Reyes. Reyes always brushed off Scott’s concern with a joke and a grin, but Reyes was only human and he had to get stressed from all of this. He barely had time to message Scott; Scott didn’t imagine he was getting much sleep.

Cora was watching him. “You really care about him, huh?”

“Of course I do,” Scott said, running a hand through his hair. “I know you guys don’t trust him. But I do, Cora. I understand why he didn’t tell me he was the Charlatan. We didn’t forget any of that, we just moved past it. I want to do something nice for him. It feels like he’s always the one saving my ass and cheering me up, especially lately.”

Cora stood up and offered Scott her hand. “Alright, Ryder. But any trouble we get into is entirely on your head.”

Scott took her hand and let himself be hauled to his feet. She handed him his crutches and he gave her a grateful smile.

“Don’t tell Lexi?” he said.

“Oh, hell no, she never finds out about this,” Cora said.

The two left the Tempest, Scott pulling his hood up as they stepped out onto the Port. They went to the markets and Scott bought a bottle of whiskey, wondering what else to get Reyes.

“What would be a good thing to get for him?” Scott said.

Cora shrugged. “He’s your boyfriend, not mine. You’re worried about him being stressed, right? Get something to help with that.”

Stressed. Scott tried to think of what would help Reyes unwind, but aside from knocking Kallo out and letting Reyes fly the Tempest, he couldn’t come up with any good ideas.

Cora put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re thinking too hard about it, Ryder. Think of the little things we do for you when you’re too busy to take care of yourself.”

Scott’s eyes widened. “I need to pick up a few more things, and then I need your help on the ship. I have an idea.”

Cora helped him get the rest of what he needed, and the two returned to the ship. With Cora’s help, Scott finished up the preparations for his surprise, and then packed everything away securely.

“I’m taking you there,” Cora said sternly. “You’re not heading to the slums by yourself when you’re like this, Ryder.”

“Wow, I can’t wait for Sara to wake up and find out we have a mom again,” Scott said.

Cora hit him in the arm. “Get moving, Pathfinder. Before I tell the others you’re sneaking off the ship.”

“Oh, shit, I forgot about that,” Scott said.

“I’ll cover for you. But only if you promise not to come back to the Tempest by yourself,” she said.

“Technically, I’m never alone. You see, I have this AI in my head and-”

“Ryder.”

“Fine, deal, I’ll make sure someone holds my hand the whole way back, mom.”

They snuck off the Tempest again, and Scott hoped Reyes would actually be at Tartarus. That was the one part of his plan he’d been too stupid to think about earlier.

Scott grew nervous as they approached Tartarus. He knocked on Reyes’ locked door, but there was no answer from inside.

“SAM, break me in,” Scott said.

“Mr. Vidal does not like when I-”

“Mr. Vidal likes when I show up with alcohol, so I’m sure he’ll forgive you for unlocking the door this time,” Scott said.

“Yes, Pathfinder,” SAM said.

The door slid open and Scott turned to Cora. “Thanks, Cora. I’ll make it back to the Tempest safely, I promise.”

“Don’t ever promise you’ll be safe. You couldn’t even make it down the hallway without injuring your ankle for the second time in less than a week,” she said, but she was smiling. “Good luck, Ryder.”

She left, and Scott entered Reyes’ room. He frowned as he looked around and spotted Reyes, slumped over his desk fast asleep with several datapads in front of him. Scott approached as quietly as he could on crutches, but they weren’t exactly built for stealth.

As he moved closer, Reyes’ head snapped up. In one swift movement, he unholstered his gun and pointed it at Scott, a cold defensive expression on his face.

“If you shoot me, I’ll consider breaking up with you,” Scott said.

“Scott?” Reyes lowered his gun and rubbed his eyes. “How did you…?” He cursed quietly. “I hate that damn AI. Stop breaking into my room.”

“The Pathfinder ordered me to, Mr. Vidal,” SAM said.

“Snitches get stitches, SAM,” Scott hissed. He looked back at Reyes and felt his concern grow at just how exhausted Reyes looked.

“This isn’t a good time, Scott,” Reyes said, pushing two datapads aside as he searched for something specific. “I have a lot of work to do.”

Scott moved closer and put a hand on Reyes’ shoulder. “When was the last time you willingly went to bed?”

“You of all people should know our jobs require sleepless nights,” Reyes said, pushing Scott’s hand off his shoulder. “I’m surprised they even let you off the Tempest. You need to go back and rest, and I need to get this done.” He noticed Scott’s expression and sighed. “Thanks for stopping by, Scott. But I really don’t have the time right now.”

“I won’t bother you, then,” Scott said, bending down and kissing Reyes, a quick kiss. “I brought you something, but I’ll leave it here for you.”

He opened his bag and took out the bowl of stew he’d made for Reyes. He wasn’t much of a cook, but he and Cora had played with the flavoring until it tasted pretty good.

Scott set it on Reyes’ desk, putting the bottle of whiskey next to it. “You look like you could use a drink or two or ten, so I won’t hold it against you if you crack that open without me around.”

“You…brought me food?” Reyes said, taking the cover off the bowl and looking at the contents.

“I figured you probably haven’t been stopping much for meals between your work,” Scott said. “I won’t bother you any longer. Just promise me you’ll eat it?”

“As long as it doesn’t taste like whatever the hell the Nexus was feeding us,” Reyes said.

Scott smiled and turned, limping his way towards the door. Before he reached it though, he felt a hand lightly grip his arm. Reyes turned him and kissed him.

“I can take a short break,” he said. “Besides, can’t drink that whiskey without you, right?”

They sat on the couch and Scott watched nervously as Reyes took a bite of the stew. But he didn’t scrunch his face in disgust or projectile vomit it onto Scott’s lap, so maybe Scott wasn’t as bad of a cook as he thought.

“Heaven compared to what passes for food on Kadara,” Reyes said in satisfaction. “It’d go better with some whiskey. Do the honors?”

Scott opened the bottle and poured them each a shot. Reyes set the stew aside and took his shot glass, clinking it against Scott’s and throwing the shot back.

“How’s your ankle feeling?” Reyes asked.

“Still broken,” Scott said. “But I haven’t fallen lately, so that’s an improvement.”

“What high standards for your health,” Reyes said. He stretched and helped himself to another shot.

“Hey,” Scott said, putting a hand on Reyes’ back. “Take care of yourself, will you? Maybe I’m a hypocrite for saying it, but you’re working too hard.”

“You’re trying to save the galaxy. I’m just trying to stop Roekaar from stealing from my people,” Reyes said. “You are not a hypocrite for saying that. You’re an imbecile.”

“Oh, we’ve hit the cute pet names stage of the relationship, I see,” Scott said.

Reyes laughed, but Scott saw his gaze drifting back to the datapads scattered about his desk. He picked the bowl up and put it in Reyes’ lap.

“Eat that stew or you’ll hurt my feelings,” Scott said. “People tend to end up dead around me when they do that.”

Reyes ate, the two of them sitting in comfortable silence. Reyes occasionally shared some mouthfuls of stew with Scott, and Scott could see Reyes’ growing more tired.

He took the bowl from Reyes once he was done eating. “Lie down and digest a bit before you go back to your work.”

“Scott, I’m the Charlatan. Do you think I’m going to fall for that?” Reyes said.

“Yes?” Scott said hopefully.

“I don’t have time to rest. That was my break, and now I need to get back to work,” Reyes said. He leaned forward, kissing Scott, letting his fingers pull through Scott’s hair. “Thank you for the food, though.” He looked at Scott’s expression and smiled a little. “When all this is over, we really will get drunk enough to laugh. I promise. When your ankle is healed and my work slows down a little.”

“I made extra stew. I’ll bring you some tomorrow,” Scott said.

Reyes helped him stand up. “If this first round doesn’t give me food poisoning, I’ll welcome that.”

“It’s a date, then. Unless you get food poisoning. In which case I assume I’ll never get another date,” Scott said.

Reyes walked him to the door and kissed him again, unable to put into words how touching Scott’s gesture had been. Reyes couldn’t remember the last time someone had done something so simple yet thoughtful for him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. “Please don’t break into my room again.”

“Yes, Mr. Vidal,” SAM said.

“SAM, you’re my AI, not his,” Scott reminded sternly.

“Yes, Pathfinder.”

Reyes shook his head and laughed silently. He watched Scott walk away, calling someone on his omni-tool as he went and pulling his hood up to hide his face.

Reyes tapped on his own omni-tool, until a voice responded with, “Yes, boss?”

“The Pathfinder is going through Tartarus on crutches. Make sure he gets back to his ship with no trouble,” Reyes said.

“Yes, boss,” the voice said and cut out.

Reyes sat back down at his desk, feeling pleasantly full. He was exhausted, but his mood was much better as he returned to his work.

Cora met Scott at the elevator, unaware that a slum mugger was dragged away from them by a Collective agent who’d seen the man eyeing the injured Pathfinder. The two reached the Tempest with no trouble.

Scott returned to his room, pleased by the expression on Reyes’ face. He felt good being able to help Reyes, even if it was only getting him to eat dinner for a night. He’d do anything to help Reyes, and he knew Reyes would do the same for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Will I ever stop writing shorts for these two?? Probably not, because I have too much fun with it! Thanks for reading!


End file.
